


if i’m being honest

by cadyjanis



Series: jatchen [3]
Category: Mean Girls - Richmond/Benjamin/Fey
Genre: Coming Out, Enemies to Friends, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Pre-Canon, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-06 05:24:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17339381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadyjanis/pseuds/cadyjanis
Summary: janis closes her eyes, cursing god or whoever for doing this to her, and leans over again. “hi, gretchen,” she greets as neutrally as she can. she even waves for good measure. gretchen’s face is round and tear-streaked and looks too shocked to see janis to remember why she was upset in the first place. she’s still pretty.janis doesn’t even know why she would think something like that.—janis finds her (second) least favorite plastic in a stairwell. unexpected things happen.





	if i’m being honest

**Author's Note:**

> yeah so i’m obsessed w them now too let’s go lesbians
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  abuse mention

The last person Janis expected to find in the stairwell naturally has to be her second least fave human being in the world. Like, of course.

 

The halls are quiet, since class is in session for most people. Janis has a free period and is going to the library, but comes to an instinctual halt when she hears crying.

 

Wincing like she’s prepared for a beast to leap out at her, she leans over the railing only to find Gretchen Wieners on the steps below her, weeping into her hands. Janis stares for a strangely self-indulgent moment, unable to process the reality that a Plastic is experiencing true anguish to some degree. Like, what the hell.

 

But then she shrinks back, chastising herself for watching. She stands there for a long minute, debating over what she should do. Would it be an asshole move to keep walking? Or would her barging in on a private crying session only make it worse?

 

She’s barely made a decision when the crying turns to sniffling and she hears a soft gasp, and a voice follows. “Janis?” Gretchen says, sounding confused, like she’s seeing things.

 

Janis closes her eyes, cursing God or whoever for doing this to her, and leans over again. “Hi, Gretchen,” she greets as neutrally as she can. She even waves for good measure. Gretchen’s face is round and tear-streaked and looks too shocked to see Janis to remember why she was upset in the first place. She’s still pretty.

 

Janis doesn’t even know why she would think something like that.

 

“You okay?” she asks, reluctantly trudging down the first set of stairs to stand near Gretchen on the other. Gretchen sniffs and smooths her floral skirt, which is pink. Over the years, Janis has kept track of the weekdays depending on what the Plastics are wearing.

 

“I think I failed a math test,” Gretchen admits in a whisper, shaky hands folded in her lap. Janis forgot how tiny she really is when she’s not with Regina. She looks childlike and afraid.

 

Janis bites her cheek. She’s not good at math, either.

 

Sighing, she shrugs her backpack off and takes a seat beside Gretchen on the step. “Is that all you’re crying about?” she’s weirdly compelled to inquire.

 

Gretchen gives her a look, like she’s deeply offended at the implication her life is any less than perfect. Janis lets her glare for a second, then Gretchen shrinks again, hiccupping.

 

“Regina yelled at me,” she murmurs. “Over something really stupid. At the time it felt like life or death. But now I’m just…” She struggles to find the words appropriate enough to describe how her friend’s behavior makes her feel.

 

Ultimately they’re too far out of reach, because she shakes her head. Janis gets it, though. It’s not easy being friends with Regina George. And you aren’t really friends—she’s a dictator, and you’re under her shiny Louboutin heel with nowhere else to go.

 

Regina quite literally picked Janis up off the street. She’d fallen off her bike and Regina helped her up before she could get hit by a car. They were inseparable after that. Until _it_ happened.

 

Regina only recruited Gretchen and Karen after that whole humiliating debacle. She needed at least two new life-ruiners to copy her every move, and she got that in ditzy Karen and eager to please Gretchen. Replaced Janis like she was trash.

 

Definitely made Janis _feel_ like trash. And she’s done so for four years.

 

But she isn’t alone, because Gretchen will play along any chance she gets. She often starts it, just to please Regina. She’s fully complicit in Regina’s brigade against Janis.

 

Janis grits her teeth, trying to remain civil while the girl is battling her inner turmoil. Janis wants to say perhaps Gretchen deserved to be yelled at and made to feel bad for whatever the hell it was she did. But Janis’s heart aches the tiniest bit at having such a thought. Nobody deserves _that,_ especially not from fucking Regina.

 

Regina George is a ruthless bitch and she will cut you with those claws she calls nails. Janis is no stranger to her insults, tantrums, and spectacular gaslighting.

 

So, as much as she dislikes Gretchen Wieners, she hates Regina a hell of a lot more.

 

“Hey.” Janis clears her throat, swatting Gretchen’s knee so she’ll pay attention. “Whatever you did, I’m sure it wasn’t actually your fault. Regina is really good at shifting the blame. And when she sees an easy target, she’ll throw as many darts at it as she can, all at once. And it hurts. It really fucking hurts. And the worst part is, she’s not sorry. She doesn’t care if she hurts people. It’s basically her hobby. She kicks people down and walks all over them.”

 

Gretchen’s jaw is tight, and Janis can see her itching to argue, to defend her friend’s honor. It’s a base instinct by now, a setting within her she can’t turn off. But Janis can cut her some slack because that’s what being abused does to you. You’re groomed to love the person with all you have in you, to be willing to do what they ask no matter what. Because you’ll get hurt if you are not obedient, if you don’t jump to cater to them.

 

So, yeah. It sucks. Being around Regina is like being in a dark box with no holes.

 

Gretchen wipes her palms on her skirt, now visibly getting anxious. “I should—I should go, she and Karen are probably…waiting for me.”

 

She goes to stand and Janis grabs her elbow, and the motion startles her so much she merely sits back down, blinking at her through her tears. Janis retracts her arm.

 

“No they’re not,” Janis answers bluntly, and even if they were, she still wouldn’t let her go. She is not taking a liking to Gretchen, just feeling sympathetic towards her. Her therapist said she’s too tough and cynical, and should extend a kind hand when she can. So this is her trying to do that. Maybe she gets bonus points since it’s Gretchen.

 

“Well, I can’t stay here,” Gretchen protests, already sounding totally lost without Big Bad Bitch. Janis understands that, too. When she was alone, she used to miss Regina. Even then.

 

“No,” Janis agrees diplomatically. “Want me to take you home?”

 

She just got her driver’s license. Might be not terrible having Gretchen in her precious truck.

 

She waits patiently while Gretchen thinks this through, clearly conflicted. If she stays, Regina’s going to see she was crying and possibly yell at her more. If she leaves, Regina will still yell at her for ditching her and Karen. Tomorrow at the latest.

 

Gretchen wants an escape. She so badly wants to leave, to get out of this school. But it’s hard to do that when you’re already locked inside yourself, and Regina has the key.

 

“Yeah. C’mon, Wieners.” Janis stands, for her patience runs thin despite her best efforts. “Let’s go, sis, my free time is up in forty minutes.”

 

Gretchen takes the hand when it’s offered to her, and it feels oddly romantic helping her stand. But Janis would physically stomp out that thought if she could.

 

She lets Gretchen go once they reach the top level, and in her peripheral she swears the other girl looks mildly disappointed as their hands slip. But Gretchen falls into step beside her, taking her to her locker so she can get her stuff.

 

“What if I get in trouble?” she hisses, turning the dial. “I’ve never skipped.”

 

Janis snorts. “It’s fun. Every now and then it’s not that big of a deal. We’ve been showing up at school at the ass crack of dawn for ten years now, occasionally ditching won’t kill anybody.”

 

Gretchen makes a choking sound, like she’s trying not to laugh, but fails. Janis has to grin. It’s rather cute, seeing Gretchen fight a genuine smile.

 

Janis cannot remember the last time she saw Gretchen smile normally.

 

She’s perturbed, though, when Gretchen replaces her books for her backpack, which wouldn’t be an issue if it wasn’t the saddest backpack Janis had ever seen.

 

“What’s this?” she questions, poking it. It’s small and white, with long straps.

 

Gretchen blinks at it. “My bag,” she says innocently.

 

Janis arches an eyebrow. “This is your backpack? You can’t even fit your junk in here.”

 

“So?” Gretchen is blushing faintly, and shuts her locker. “It’s cute. It matches most of my outfits and is easy to take with me. I just carry my books.”

 

Janis has to laugh. “You carry your books? For the aesthetic?”

 

She doubles over, unable to calm herself. Gretchen pouts, clutching her backpack protectively. But the more Janis laughs, the less defensive she is, and soon she’s giggling, too.

 

“Okay, that _is_ stupid,” she agrees, shrugging.

 

Janis wipes her eyes. “You said it, not me,” she snickers. Gretchen sticks her tongue out like a five-year-old, then struts away in her heels.

 

Janis jogs to catch up, fishing her keys out of her pocket. A companionable silence settles and Janis even opens the door for Gretchen, and together they leave the building with no fucks left to give on Janis’s part. This may as well happen. Like, seriously. Okay.

 

“No offense, but are we gonna die?” Gretchen has the gall to ask, buckling her seatbelt.

 

Janis revs the engine just to scare her. “Perhaps.”

 

Gretchen hugs her stupid tiny backpack in her lap and nervously looks out the windshield. She doesn’t protest, though. Too late now.

 

Janis feels weird playing her favorite radio stations in front of Gretchen, so it’s silent. She asks for directions when she has to, but it isn’t as awkward as you’d expect given the fact she’s in a small space with Gretchen Wieners. This day is butt-fucking weird.

 

All because Janis was nice to Gretchen. Glancing at her, she sees the relief etched across her face, tension fading from her shoulders. The physical stress of Regina’s wrath leaves her body the further away from North Shore they get. Janis doesn’t regret it. That’s the weirdest part.

 

But maybe it’s also kind of the best. For now, at least.

 

* * *

 

The Wieners’ home, while large and wealthy, is modest compared to the obnoxious palace Her Royal Highness lives in. A light brown two story with a darker roof and white window panes, it’s like a picture from a magazine. Janis is almost ashamed arriving in her cheap red truck.

 

There’s no cars in the driveway and Gretchen assures her that her parents aren’t home. Janis, not having been prepared for that, thanks her lucky stars.

 

Because Gretchen walking in with Janis Sarkisian in tow would be a disaster otherwise.

 

It’s even prettier on the inside, and Janis cannot believe inventing toaster strudel is enough for this family to be set for life. Goals, honestly.

 

Gretchen flops down on the staircase and practically rips her shoes from her feet. “Told her I’m not cut out for four inches,” she mutters, flexing her pink-painted toes.

 

She huffs a sigh and waves Janis along as she ascends the winding stairs. Janis quickly takes off her boots, leaving them beside Gretchen’s heels, and pads after her. The huge windows on nearly every high-ceilinged wall provide plenty of light, even more than their school does. Janis walks slow and quiet, following Gretchen.

 

Gretchen disappears down a hall and Janis finds her falling face-first onto her king bed, and is immobile within seconds. Janis puts their bags down on a nearby pastel chair.

 

Gretchen’s room is pink, but soft tones, unlike Regina’s girly lair. Janis doesn’t think much of it, but she likes Gretchen’s way more. It’s easier on the eyes, and it’s decorated nicely. She even has a balcony that looks out to the backyard, where a huge pool shimmers under the April sun and trimmed hedges surround the perimeter.

 

If Janis had grown up coming to this house, the mourning period would’ve lasted longer.

 

After a long, still pause, Janis wanders over to Gretchen and pokes her in the tush. Gretchen’s hips jolt and she scrambles upward with a yelp.

 

Janis smirks. “Sorry. You good?” She’s not sorry.

 

Gretchen nods, and her blush is redder this time. “Um. You can leave, if you want. I mean, you said you didn’t have a whole lot of time left—”

 

“Nah.” Janis invites herself onto the bed next to her. “I had algebra next. Fuck it.”

 

Gretchen smiles the tiniest bit, and Janis smiles back.

 

She never realized how pretty Gretchen was up close. She doesn’t look Plastic here—not with the natural light streaming in, warming her skin, igniting her hair. Her eyes are golden.

 

There’s an absolutely unwelcome flutter in Janis’s chest and she hates it. But it won’t go away, and now her heart is beating in time with it.

 

She looks down at her hands, counting her rings. Fuck. She’s scared.

 

And there’s nothing worse than a fear that you don’t know where it’s coming from.

 

She can’t like Gretchen. She can’t let her into her orbit, her safe haven of art, and horror flicks, and chipped nail polish, and combat boots, and being a lesbian.

 

God. The irony is not lost on Janis. She’s painfully aware how nonsensical it would be to crush on not only a straight girl, but a straight girl in league with an even worse straight girl. Regina’s a homophobic monster. Gretchen is complicit.

 

But how complicit can someone be if they’re unknowingly being forced against their will?

 

Janis would never hold someone’s abuse over their head. It’s a tricky, horrible thing. And when it comes to someone as fragile as Gretchen, she wouldn’t have the heart to harbor a grudge.

 

And if any of Gretchen’s reactions today are any indication, she wants out, whether she knows it or not. Letting Janis, of all people, help her is the biggest sign.

 

Janis wants to do more than just take her home.

 

She bumps her knee to Gretchen’s the very same moment Gretchen inhales and says quickly, “I have to tell you something,” so fast it blurs.

 

Janis blinks, alarmed. “What?” she says, not having caught that. Her heart still pounds.

 

“I—I have to tell you something,” Gretchen repeats, slower, and gulps. “And you must promise to not share it with anybody. I know I’m bad at keeping secrets, but do this for me.”

 

She’s so bad at it she can’t even keep her own.

 

It seems rather important, though, so Janis won’t judge yet.

 

“Okay,” she says awkwardly, startled by Gretchen’s sudden intensity. Gretchen stares until she assures, “Okay, yeah, I promise. Not even Damian will know.”

 

Gretchen sighs, taking Janis’s hand, and Janis lets her.

 

“Okay.” She inhales. Then exhales. Twice. “Okay. I was gonna tell Karen but I chickened out—I’d even started to but then changed the subject. And I can’t tell Regina because—well. I can’t. She’d crucify me.” Her voice drops to a whisper, and the panic in her eyes paints a pretty clear picture. “But I can tell you, because you’ll get it. At least I think you will.”

 

Janis nods. “Yeah. Totally. What is it?” She knows what it is.

 

Another inhale, another exhale. Gretchen hangs her head in shame. “I don’t know why, but it’s been on my mind lately, and it—I’m scared.”

 

Janis’s pulse is thumping like a racehorse in her ears.

 

“And it feels right but wrong at the same time,” Gretchen murmurs, unable to look up. “So I…I don’t know what to make of any of it. I never thought it would happen to me. And now that it is, I’m—I’m alone. I don’t have anyone. Google doesn’t count.”

 

She’s shivering, but not because she’s cold. And there’s fresh tears in her eyes. “And Regina—she wouldn’t be very nice about it. You know that. I’m not sure what my parents would think. All I have is you. Tell me I’m not alone.”

 

If heartbreak is a physical sensation, Janis is positive she’s going through it again.

 

“I see you,” she whispers, and Gretchen leans her head on her shoulder, sniffling. Janis wraps an arm around her, almost protectively. “You’re not alone, Gretch. I gotcha.”

 

Gretchen hugs her, clinging to her waist like she’s a buoy in a lonely sea. Maybe she is.

 

What Janis wouldn’t have given to have someone like herself.

 

That’s why she’s here; that’s why she’s staying. Gretchen needs her. Gretchen needs _anybody_ who understands and will hold her like she deserves.

 

“I don’t know what to do,” Gretchen whispers.

 

“You don’t have to do anything,” Janis tells her. “Not right now, anyway. You don’t have to force yourself to—to come out to them. Not if it’ll put you in danger. Believe me, it would.”

 

“I know.” Gretchen sits up, now looking vaguely nauseated. “But I don’t—I don’t want to hide in the closet until graduation. It’s two years from now.”

 

They share a long, hopeless look. Janis feels that, too, weighed down by the reminder she will be putting up with Regina’s bullshit til then.

 

Surely it’s going to be harder for Gretchen, only having just figured out this part of herself. She is at more risk of literally everything than Janis is. And Janis can handle it.

 

But Gretchen is resilient, if not delicate. You can be tough and fragile at the same time.

 

Janis takes her hand again. “I don’t know what you should do, either. But you aren’t alone. I do know you’re better than her, and she’s a witchy, scum-sucking life-ruiner.” That coaxes a laugh from Gretchen. “Two years seems like forever. But it’s not. And you never know what’ll happen from now to then. Which is scary. But—whatever happens, I’ll be there.”

 

Gretchen’s eyes grow soft and apologetic, face lined with guilt. She looks down at their hands. “Even after…everything I’ve done?” she murmurs.

 

Janis shrugs. “Lots of revelations have occurred today, Wieners. You’ve done bad stuff, but it’s because of her. And… Now I’m not so sure _her_ Gretchen is really you.”

 

Gretchen shakes her head. “No. It’s not. I’m really sorry, Janis.”

 

“It’s cool. I’m used to it.” Janis smiles dryly, but not to make her feel worse. “Anyway. I meant it when I said she’s a scum-sucking life-ruiner. You deserve better than that. I don’t think there is a whole lot anyone can do about her, but… You’ve got me. I can’t believe I just said that.”

 

Gretchen smiles softly, understanding Janis’s feelings towards the Plastics. “I’ll—I’ll make it up to you,” she vows, suddenly intense. “I promise.”

 

Janis looks into her depthless eyes and that flutter returns, stronger than before. But she nods because despite the reasons _why,_ Gretchen has still hurt her. Janis simply is more forgiving of her, though. She can’t bring herself to be mad. Not after the last hour.

 

Amazing how everything can change in such a short period of time. It doesn’t seem real.

 

“I have popcorn,” Gretchen says randomly, and Janis lights up hungrily. “Yeah. And we have a theater in the basement, we can watch a movie.”

 

“Okay,” Janis says, because why the hell not. Gretchen squeals and leads her out of the room. That was effectively the start of their friendship. And they can breathe easier now.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! kudos and comments are fetch ♡


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